Photo: Shirlaine Forrest
Life’s a game of numbers for George. After a 15 year sabbatical he’s still keeping us guessing, and waiting. He’s late - twenty minutes in fact. The ‘big tease’ knows what he’s doing, just like his fervent fans crammed into the arena. He‘s also got a new ‘best of’ album to plug – ‘Twentyfive’. There’s the long-suffering fans to please as well. The numbers eventually whittle down – now there’s only one man in town - George Michael, and he’s all ours for an expected two-and-a-half hours. The MEN is packed to the rafters, obviously. We’re all excited. Who wouldn’t be?
A little group of us is guessing what song will open the show. ‘Fastlove’? ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’? The former is favourite, but it’s not the one. The never ending classical music is providing the perfect dramatic countdown. Lights go down, and he’s still not there. He’s singing a ballad off-stage. The set doors slowly open and eventually he’s on and we’re up. The place explodes to a standing ovation. This hack has never seen this kind of thing before, ever. The noise is seriously deafening. Michael-mania’s arrived – screams, flashbulbs engulf the arena. He’s finally with us in a smart shimmering black suit, black shirt and shoes complete with shades, slicked-backed hair, and yes, designer stubble, which he created. Down to business, we get, “Hey Manchester, how are you? It’s Saturday night. Let’s go... 1, 2, 3”, and into ‘Fastlove’ (we were nearly right). In seconds a pair white of knickers hit the stage, but he’s unfazed and cruising the stage from side to side with a huge beam. He’s happy, and so are we. His brilliant 15 piece band is rocking each side of scaffolding-like gantry. His voice is still sounding great, and he’s out to show it off.
The set is simple, but extremely effective. The visuals are revolutionary, but not over the top. This presentation is all about projection techniques which are not flashy, but simply cool. The constantly looping images cast hardly any shadows as he wanders around– it’s remarkable. There’s no sign of nerves. A quick glance at the big screen close-up shows he’s sweating profusely. We get seated ballads from most of his albums – ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’, ‘Father Figure’, ‘Praying For Time’, ‘You Have Been Loved’ mixed with movers ‘Star People’ and a thumping ‘Too Funky’. Before his well-deserved 
break, we get some political satire- ‘Shoot The Dog’ brings an enormous inflated caricature of George Bush and British bulldog up to no good. The projected countdown (more numbers) heralds his return - 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1 we all scream. He’s back for more of the same. “You know the drill… don’t be shy,” as ‘Spin The Wheel’ brings a sea of swaying arms, conducted by Georgie boy himself. Up and down we go again to ‘An Easier Affair’, ‘Jesus To A Child’, ‘Amazing’, ‘I’m Your Man’, and ‘Outside’. “Thank you Manchester and goodnight”. We know he ain’t finished just yet.
After an obligatory “We want George, we want George, we want George” he’s back for ‘Careless Whisper’, letting the crowd do most of the singing. Cheers ring out as a couple snog on the large screen – they don’t even know they’re been watched by 15,000 people. He’s gone again, but not for long. Respectfully he says, “Thanks for buying the new album. It looks like number one tomorrow. Give yourself a big clap”. So everyone does. A rousing ‘Freedom’ is helped along by all. He kisses the crowd goodbye and bangs his heart clench fisted and wanders into the night. And what a night.
